


Bystanders

by Gwynne



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 15:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19908310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwynne/pseuds/Gwynne
Summary: This was inspired by Rose Milburn's brilliant AU Life of Ivan Vorpatril series.Posting with her kind permission.





	Bystanders

Lina Petrova

He’s coming. He’s coming soon. I won’t have to wait long.

He’ll understand about the gun. I had to do something to get his attention, he was so busy and distracted. And people were trying to keep us apart; I was fired from my job. I know they did that to stop me being near him. 

But they can’t stop us. He’s mine, and now he knows just how much I care, how much he belongs to me. Now I’ve got his attention.

He’ll come soon. He’ll come for me. I’ve been waiting, he knows I’m here. 

They keep telling me it’ll be the end soon. They don’t understand. He’ll come for me. Soon. 

Oh – is it time? Time to go? He’ll be coming for me soon. 

Yes, yes, I understand. I’m going. I know. And he’ll come for me. 

Sheridan

We did terrible things. We were armsmen, we had to obey orders, but they were cruel. And shameful orders. Terrible things. 

And now I’m running the police and arresting people who are doing things just as bad. But I was obeying my Count. I had no choice. And now I’m obeying a new Count, still following orders. 

The difference is the man. I’m proud to follow the new Count. The man at the top makes the difference. 

And now I’m at the top of the police. I have to make a difference too. I have to be the man at the top of my own little fiefdom, and make that difference. 

I have to have the same honour as my Count. Following a good man makes all the difference in the world. 

Kailis

When they came marching into my restaurant I tried not to panic. The Count and a swarm of heavies; armsmen, ImpSec, whatever. I just hoped it’d be a beating, a demand for meals, maybe smashing the place up a bit, but nothing worse. Luckily Ourania got out fast, through the kitchens and upstairs to our private quarters, with the doors all locked good and tight. She’ll take her sisters with her, leaving her mother and the boys in the kitchens. The girls are good at getting out of sight when the squads come in. 

They were so quiet, so nicely spoken, I kept on serving them and waiting for it to start. For the first smashed plate, the first push and shove, or a bottle thrown against the wall. 

But they just talked, and laughed, and shared the food. Nobody drank too much, nobody made threats or demanded something I didn’t have, or destroyed anything. 

The biggest shock came at the end, when they… they paid for the meal! Paid the full price, politely and with a smile! And thanked me, then all left, and nothing broken. 

Everyone said the new Count was different to the old one, but I didn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. 

Colonel Otto

I hadn’t heard much about Vorpatril. I mean, he’s the Emperor’s cousin, and until recently the presumed heir, so everyone in HQ was aware of him in a vague way. For one thing, if he’d fallen victim to an exploding coffee machine or been accidently stabbed by a flimsy-spike it would have been a bit embarrassing, and we’d be knee-deep in ImpSec for weeks.

But according to rumour he just did his job. Did it well, but not too well – although somehow, to the surprise of anyone talking about him, he seemed to be extremely efficient, they just couldn’t figure out how he did it. Did his job, kept his head down, didn’t trade on his rank or make problems (except for his truly phenomenal collection of traffic fines. Thank the gods he has to have a driver now.)

Next thing I know he’s a Count, and then he’s sitting in my office asking me to blow up some buildings. 

It sounded ridiculous, but when I looked into it he’d worked it out very well. Improve the sunlight to the other buildings, stop the problem with wind tunnels around the buildings, and make that vile slum a bit more liveable.  
It was also brilliant Public Relations; something that would really show that he was prepared to do whatever it took to make a difference. And it’d show the people there that he hadn’t forgotten them. 

In fact, he’s being a Count the same way he drove a desk at Ops; head down, working with efficiency and skill, doing whatever it takes to get things done, but not making a huge fuss about himself. Just getting the job done. 

Jim

When the Count hit the ground I thought we was done for. I mean, everyone nicks a few things from the markets, it’s just a bit of fun. Not much else to do around here. But then we ran into the Count, and he went down, and I thought we’d had it.

I saw the look on me Ma’s face as we lined up in front of the Count, and all those men in uniform; ImpSec, and some kind of armsmen, and whatever. I thought it’d be the stocks if we was lucky, probably a good whipping as well. Or maybe even a cell. 

But instead we ended up at the cooperage. Sweeping up sawdust and learning to make barrels. Working. Rushing from one job to the next with the boss on our tails at every moment, trying to remember all the instructions, making a mess and cleaning it up again. 

And it was wonderful. 

The new Count is a great man. 

And he’s a good one, my ma says. An’ she says that’s more important.

Damon Taglienti – Vorbretten Armsman

They didn’t tell us about this when I took the job. I mean, I’m proud that I took that oath, and I’ll serve my Count till death. But they didn’t tell us about this.

I don’t know how the Vorkosigan men do it, I really don’t. 

The Vicereine… she’s an amazing woman, took off the Pretender’s head, and Ges Vorrutyer’s too they say. Admirable warrior, strong enough to stand beside the Viceroy himself. And a good foster mother to the Emperor. Wonderful woman.

But… Betan. They didn’t tell us about this when I signed up. Betans. And … womens’ things, things a man shouldn’t ever have to hear. Or see. 

Advice for the bride-to-be she called it. Although after hearing what the bride-to-be writes in those books of hers, I don’t think she needs much advice. Women aren’t supposed to think about those things until after marriage, and then only in private. 

Just guard duty today, that’s what I was told this morning. The Countess is going to a wedding shower at Voralys House. Lady Alys Vorpatril, the Vicereine, the Empress, and a handful of other ladies. LADIES, they said! I’ll never think about ladies the same way again. 

We should have been warned. 

Fabian Clarence

A few months ago I was Vor. I was a Lord, and heir. I was in line for my grandfather’s Countship, I’d be Count Vorclarence after my da. 

Now I’m not a lord, or an heir, or a Vor. I don’t have a grandfather, or a da. Or any uncles. A few of my uncles and cousins are in prison, so are some of my aunties, and my grandmother. And my ma. The rest of them are dead. Executed mostly, but Da was the only one who went to the post in the Great Square. Nobody will tell me anything more about that. 

There’s seventeen of us kids, my brothers and sister and cousins. I’m fourteen, I’m the oldest. And there’s three aunties who weren’t charged, ImpSec decided they weren’t guilty enough to bother with. 

None of us are Vor any more. The aunties were upset about that, but there’s so many dead relatives to be upset about too, so a name didn’t rate that much attention. 

I didn’t know all the things they were doing. I could see some of it, I’d hear some of the things Da and my grandfather talked about. I asked once if it was the right thing to do, but Da took the belt to me so I didn’t ask anything any more. 

We kids were all rounded up when our parents were arrested. They kept us in an old barracks, all together like it was a big dormitory at school. It was good that way; we could look after the little ones. Later they let the innocent aunties join us. 

There was a lot of crying. They wouldn’t tell us much, but I nicked a hand-vid from one of the guards, and I was able to find out a bit. I could tell they weren’t reporting everything. But there was enough.

We didn’t tell the little ones. 

And now we’re packing, they say we’re going on a trip. I thought maybe they were going to get rid of us all, but I think they’re being honest – they say we’re going to Sergyar. A fresh start, with a new name. Later the ones who are in prison will come to us, when they’ve done their time. 

Nobody’s really said it, but I don’t think we’re allowed to come back to Barrayar. 

I hope Sergyar is nice. Lord Auditor Vorkosigan did some of the investigating into grandfather’s crimes, and his parents run Sergyar. But Indrey, the kind guard, says they won’t be nasty to us. 

I miss some of them, and I’ll miss Barrayar, a bit. But it will be nice to not be afraid all the time, scared of saying the wrong thing and getting the belt from Da or grandfather, scared of the screaming and arguments. And ashamed, when I’d see the people in the streets, see how poor and afraid they were. 

So now I’ll be Fabian Clarence of Sergyar. And I won’t be afraid or ashamed. And I’ll look after the little ones, to make sure they never feel that way. Things will get better now. 

Alexandre

Being tailor to the Emperor is a great honour. It’d also be good for business, if only I could tell anyone. 

And then he sends the new Count Voralys along to me. The Count, he is a joy to design for, a fine figure of a man. Those eyes, that hair, those shoulders… such a sad waste that he got married. To a woman. Ah well. 

But for all that, he’s not an ideal client. He goes through house uniforms as if they’re tissue paper – just what does the man do in them? Roll around on the ground? Stab knives through them? And then he wants suits… just that. Suits. No hint of the style, or of some special flair or even interest. Just suits. All the same colour – I hate ex-military clients, deep down they want their uniforms back, and try to invent new ones any way they can. Suits, all the same colour, styled ‘I like the way you dress the Emperor’. 

Honestly, if he wasn’t such luscious eye candy I’d tell him I was too busy.


End file.
